Shattered
by BookCaseGirl
Summary: Future oneshot...slightly OOC. Blair is totally broken every time that she sees Chuck and...that woman. After one particular evening, she breaks more than she ever thought possible.


**A/N: **This is sort of OOC...I mean, I'm not sure people will like. It's sad. And I mainly wrote it to vent my own feelings...so I s'pose I'm selfish. Sorry. But yeah, I hope people may like it :)

This is slightly unbeta'd. So yeah, mistakes are mine. And uh, THANKS MICHELLE!

P.S.: I don't own Blair or Chuck.

_Shattered_

"Blair!" came his voice from across the room. There was a woman who looked like an everyday bimbo that was on his arm. She felt a pang in her heart when she remembered that it _wasn't_ an everyday bimbo. In fact, the woman was not a bimbo at all.

Chuck Bass had settled down.

Without Blair Waldorf.

She wanted to ignore him, just not acknowledge the "couple's" presence and continue to down champagne by the gallon. He'd found her, though, and it was damn hard to ignore him when he had already fucking seen her.

This came as a surprise to Blair, but apparently they were 'friends' now. As in, no more chemistry between the two of them, they talked about anything and everything. Hell, she even heard from Nate that Chuck had considered having her be in that goddamn wedding. She would rather slip into a frigid tub of ice water with killer jellyfish in it than have to go through that.

"How are you this evening?" he asked cordially, a broad smile lighting up his eyes. His voice boomed with happiness and she felt her knees weaken and her throat become embarrassingly parched. Her heart pounded so much that she was sure one or both of them could here.

He didn't know what it was like; he didn't fucking understand what she had to go through. Every night after she saw him, she would go home shaking and start to cry uncontrollably. Blair always felt like a coward when she saw him and couldn't say anything. She couldn't form conscious thoughts because of his smell, his presence, all of it intoxicated her to the point of death.

"I'm fine," she replied smoothly. She wondered where her shaky and nervous voice was. It had been replaced by a confident and flawlessly beautiful voice that was sure to get his briefs in a bunch. She even chanced a glance down, and sure enough there was the tiniest bulge.

Where the hell was she getting this sudden boost of valor from? He and his goddamn w_ife_ were there and she was staring at his _pants_? This was boldness, it was just plain stupid.

Seeing her – no, seeing them _together – _always put her so...on edge. It was terrifying and she always managed to convince herself that it was simply a dream. The feelings, they went away once she was sure that the duo was gone and not invading her overly large bubble any longer.

The nudges, the glances, the obviously private jokes and dirty remarks burned her. They charred the inside of her heart and made it crumble – even at times when she was so sure that it could break no more. She wasn't a part of that anymore, and it _killed_ her. It ate at her and made her mind scream.

Blair's legs twitched every time he left a room. It was as if they were suddenly given the unbearably urge to go after him. Even though they had been weak only mere moments before, she always got that rush of feeling that came into him. And her mind told her to run, to sprint like she never had before and reach out for him.

Something always told her to stop because all that would greet her would be disappointment.

She had forgotten that they were standing there, so smug and boasting. It was like with each movement of her hand on his arm came a snide 'Ha, ha...You're alone' and that made her blood boil and her mind race with plots and revenge.

All she wanted was happiness. He could give her that; once upon a time, she didn't think that to be true. After seeing him with..._her_...though, she just knew. He was the only one she could picture at the end of the aisle; she thought of little Chuck-faced children running through their extravagant, white-picket-fenced house.

He had that. But with _her._

She never wanted to say their names together, it hurt too much. Perhaps she was being childish and her adolescence was peeking through more than ever before, but this was how she felt. It couldn't be explained, no one understood. Not Serena, not Dorota. If she had ever attempted a single word with her mother about this, she would've been in the next available limo to rehab.

"Blair?" came that little bitch's voice. It was too caring, too concerned. She had _no right. _Blair felt like slapping her; it wouldn't have necessarily been out of character for the 'new' her. She knew better, though. At this sort of event, it simply was not accepted. If you were caught doing something as atrocious as negative _physical_ behavior, by the next day your name would lose at least seven pedestals of hierarchy.

"Yes?" she quipped, giving her best fake smile. Her heart was thundering and her knees were shaking. There were the smallest involuntary movements that her body was making, and all she wanted to do was banish them, forever and always.

"Well...We were just about to leave," the woman said. She made gestures with her arms toward the door and Chuck's eyes followed the movements.

That was when something inside of Blair Waldorf utterly broke. There were no longer any cracks that festered and opened with each new occurrence. It had been torn now, never to be repaired. Her heart was broken. It was really amazing how fast it happened and without warning.

She had always pictured it happening slowly. But, as she watched him –_ them, Blair, them_ – walk out she realized that it was possible for something as drastic as this to happen in the snap of a finger. It was so...shocking and upsetting. Then again, some of the most basic things in life were like that.

So Blair went home that night, and – just the same as any night that she would see him _(them)_ – she went to bed. Although, she didn't truly go to bed. She sat there, staring vacantly out her window, and waited. She waited for the scalding hot beads to stream down her cheeks and for the phlegm to clog her throat. Blair waited for the hideous feeling of coagulating snot in her nose that signaled weakness.

When it all finally came – in a whirlwind, at that – she crumbled much more than she had ever allowed in previous instances. There really wasn't much of a use to holding back now since the most vital of all organs had already been unceremoniously shattered without a second thought.

It was normal for her to cry nearly every night. But this...This wasn't crying. It was splintering devastation in the form of liquid and pain. Blair let it flow though, because it was the only way for her to let go. Every evening, before sleep, she did this to aid her body in healing.

She thought of all the wonderful times she had shared with Chuck. With every passing day, they seemed to get further and further away. They were formal now, with polite comments and kind smiles. There were no longer lingering stares or suggestive comments. That damn woman had changed him.

_Blair Waldorf_ was supposed to have changed him. Not some stranger that stumbled into eighteen twelve by mistake. She was a Waldorf; they were capable of the extraordinary, the flamboyant. She should have been able to alter him; it was her job.

And, just like everything and every_one_ else, it had been taken from her.

**A/N:** Angst...and there's more on the way with [possibly] another oneshot. Bitsog's just about done, and that's angst too. I've basically got it coming out of my ass with the way my life is right now, so yeah. I'm hoping readers will deal. Review, please! If I get reviews....Well, I'll be just about the happiest person. EVER. Oh, and Gossip Girl is new tomorrow night! Woo! Go Chair! Stupid Vanessa, stupid Nate, go die!!! Okaayyy...I'm done with my useless rant ;).


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